the Coliseum. Such is it in many places in this yet intensely papal town. Let the true and living Church come and build up these waste places, and fill these empty courts with heavenly songs and teachings and testimonies.
"Hasten, Lord, the glorious day."
I entered the cathedral at about half-past eight. Mass had already commenced, though only a few were present. They kept coming in and dropping on their knees. There are only one or two benches, so the floor is the sitting-place. Two ladies, dressed in blue silk, with all the fashionable flounces and over-skirts and trails, floated by me, one kneeling at the foot of the altar, where she could sit also, when she desired; the other seating herself on the bench where I sat. They wore black lace veils, and no bonnets. I have never seen a bonnet in a church here. As others came in of their friends, there were nods and smiles of mutual recognition; and when some of them knelt at the side of those on the floor, conversation ensued, the service constantly going on. So I saw that kneeling in a papal church did not any more necessitate devotion than sitting in other churches.
After much singing by the boys, and other incidents of the mass, a procession is formed, and a silken canopy, wrought with gold, is borne by six Indians, who, I note, are never priests—only Gibeonites. I have not seen a full-blooded Indian in high Church orders. They rule in the State, but not in the Church. Yet I hear they are found in some parts of Mexico. Before this canopy marches one with a silver crucifix. Under it a very old man carries a silver star or sun, on which the crucifix stands, seemingly a very sacred affair. Hard-looking officials accompany this venerable bearer. They stop opposite my bench at an altar, and bow and kiss the silver sun, move on to the high altar, and place it in the centre. It is as powerless and useless as the opera operations of some more intelligent, if not more Christian congregations. It was nothing to the crowd that witnessed it, or the men that performed it.
